


Unfallen Punishment

by Jewely



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Blood, Angel Wings, Angry Crowley (Good Omens), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Archangels, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Badly Hurt Azirapahle, Blood and Gore, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crying, Crying Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crying Crowley (Good Omens), Cut Off Wings, Fanfiction, Happy Ending, Heaven is Terrible (Good Omens), Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Oneshot, Open Ending, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Canon, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Sad Crowley (Good Omens), Serious Injuries, Strong Aziraphale (Good Omens), Strong Crowley (Good Omens), Wingfic, semi-happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29803101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jewely/pseuds/Jewely
Summary: Crowley wiped a tear from his eye. He ignored every stop sign, every person, and every traffic light. He forgot to breathe, yet he felt like hyperventilating. The demon wasn’t even wearing his usual shades. “Shit, Shit, Shit. You stupid angel. Can’t take care of yourself for one damn day. “ Crowley kept murmuring as he drove, feeling the panic coming over him, taking over his mind like a heavy mist of fear.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55





	Unfallen Punishment

**Author's Note:**

> It’s angst timeee 👀   
> I’ve wanted to write this since forever... Enjoy! UwU

Crowley hated leaving Aziraphale alone. He hated him being out of his sight. Since the fire, he was scared that heaven - or worse, hell - could be _actually_ coming for the angel this time. He himself was a demon after all. He had fallen, had earned a punishment from God herself, while Aziraphale hasn’t. He was a graceful angel who, in the eyes of the others, had terribly sinned, and was a traitor.

_Of course they would come for him. I knew it. I fucking knew it. I shouldn’t have left. I shouldn’t have...._

Crowley wiped a tear from his eye. He ignored every stop sign, every person, and every traffic light. He forgot to breathe, yet he felt like hyperventilating. The demon wasn’t even wearing his usual shades. “Shit, Shit, Shit. You stupid angel. Can’t take care of yourself for _one_ damn day. “ Crowley kept murmuring as he drove, feeling the panic coming over him, taking over his mind like a heavy mist of fear.

The angel had called the demon on the phone five minutes ago. And had only said one single word: “Crowley”.

But not in the usual, sweet, greeting tone the angel always had for him, happily, like on a date at the Ritz. It was barely above a whisper, comparable to the last drop of power leaving a now powerless battery.

Crowley had tried to get the angel to say more. To tell Crowley what happened, If he was okay. He shouted, _begged_ into the phone, the angel should talk to him, but the other side of the line remained alarmingly silent after that one word.

“Crowley” the angel had said. Only “Crowley”.

_He is fine._ Crowley drove faster, already seeing the bookshop’s street. _He has to be fine. He_ has _to be._

The serpent stopped on a forbidden spot, almost hitting the shocked people on the sidewalk. But he didn’t care. He got out of the Bentley, ran towards the bookshop’s door, and snapped it open, rushing through it, and slamming it closed.

“Aziraphale? Angel!” Crowley shouted. No reponse. He could feel the mist of fear and panic grow.

He hurried quickly around in the angel’s home. It was getting dark outside, so was the bookshop. But Crowley didn’t care about turning on the lamps now. He had to find Aziraphale.

Crowley checked the part of the bookshop near the telephone. But the angel wasn’t there. The phone was untouched. Aziraphale was not in the backroom or the main room, so Crowley headed to the other side of the ground floor, but then, he stumbled over something. Groaning, he hit on the wooden floor. Crowley sweared, and hoisted himself on his hands, prepared to stand up.

But then, he felt a sticky liquid underneath his palm, wich was stinging and burning on his skin. He sat on his knees and looked down. A dark red, thick liquid with a few shining golden particles. Blood. Angel blood. He was lying in angel blood. The demon widened his eyes in shock, and turned around to see what he stumbled over.

As he saw what it was, he screamed. Without any voice. He kept his mouth open in shock and disbelief but was simply unable produce any sound.

Wings. Those were bloody wings on the floor. White, angelic wings.

_ No. No. No, no, no, no. Please. Not him. Not him. _

“Aziraphale!” Crowley yelled desperately, and was back on his feet on instant. “Where are you?!” he didn’t realize that he was crying. He could barely see from tears, but he ignored it. He had to find-

Then the demon saw him. Behind a bookshelf, near the cut off wings, the angel was lying on the carpet. 

With his back towards him, bleeding from everywhere, especially his back. Even in the semi-dark, the red, gold-sprinkled blood was unmistakable. And next to Aziraphale, on the floor, was the mobile Crowley had bought him. A silent, constant hanging-up peep coming from it. The angel had collapsed while calling him.

“Crowley”, was all he had managed to say. Only “Crowley”.

The demon leaned against a wall and and breathed heavily, crying. _Angel. No. Angel. Please no._

But the angel was trembling. He was alive.

“Angel!” Crowley shouted, and finally gained his senses back, rushing towards his Partner, letting himself fall on his knees. He turned the hurt angel carefully, looking into his blood smeared face, holding him. His eyes were open, but he didn’t seem to be conscious at all. He was trembling. In shock, in pain. Oh, the pain must be horrible.

_I shouldn’t have left him alone. I shouldn’t have. It’s my fault. This is all my fault._ Crowley let his tears flow unstoppably. 

“Aziraphale!” the serpent sobbed desperately, looking down at the terribly hurt angel who was lying in the demon’s trembling arms. “Angel! It’s me, Crowley! I’m here, angel. I’m here. I’m with you. You’re safe.” Crowley whispered shaking. He stroked his angel’s cheek, softly. 

“Hey... I’ve got you. You’re safe.” he mumbled, sobbing. _I am so stupid. I should’ve been with him. It’s my fault, I betrayed my Aziraphale._

“Angel, can you hear me?” Crowley’s voice kept breaking. He squeezed his eyes closed in despair. _How could I let this happen?_

“Crow...” a quiet, broken voice said.

The demon opened his eyes immediately. The angel was still shaking, but he was looking him in the eye now. Consciously.

“Oh. Oh, Aziraphale.” Crowley sobbed, but this time, with a desperate smile. He cupped his angel’s face with the hand caressing his cheek. “Yes! Yes, angel it’s me. I’m here!” 

Crowley bent down and held the angel close. Careful, not to hurt his injured back. “Yes. It’s me. It’s me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” the serpent wetly cried in despair. 

They stayed like this for a few minutes. Suddenly Crowley felt a hand on his head. “Crowley... It’s okay...my dearest.“ 

Crowley lifted his head slightly, to look at his angel. By now, his eyes got better used to the darkness, and he could see the principality in detail. 

Aziraphlale was smiling, as if he wasn’t currently in unbearable pain and not been in shock trance few minutes ago. 

The shaky hand stroked Crowley‘s short, red hair, soothing him. “Azira....“ Crowley began and was shook by another, smaller sob. 

“Who did this? Angel, who did this to you? I will fucking destroy them. _Who_ , angel?” Crowley growled, shaking furiously. 

“No, don’t.” The angel breathed heavily. “Uriel. San....Sandalphon.” he mumbled. “Don’t... don’t do anyth.... They’ll destroy yuh....” Exhausted, he let go off the demon’s ginger hair, and leaned into Crowley’s loose embrace. 

_Those wankers. Those fucking wankers_. Crowley bit his teeth in fury. They dared to lay a hand on Aziraphale?! _Burn in hell, you atrocious rats._ Crowley swallowed down his anger.

“Shhh... Angel.” he cooed instead. “I won’t. Don’t worry. Let’s get you on a sofa, okay?” 

** *** **

Crowley carried the angel, and softly, oh so softly, laid him down on the couch in the back room. The serpent gasped as Aziraphale tensed and cringed in pain. “I’m sorry. Shh. It’s ok.” He kissed his partner’s cheek. Crowley could taste the burning essence of angel blood. _Bastards. They hurt my angel. **My** angel._ “Here, let me turn you to the side, okay? They’re you go.” Crowley murmured as he stroked the angels arm while he laid him to the side, to spare his injured back. 

But the principality still trembled and eventually, tears started leaking down his plump cheeks. “It hurts. Crowley... it hurts so much... make it stop... please...“ Aziraphale whispered. This made every single piece of Crowley’s heart break once more. “Angel.” He murmured. “Turn on your stomach, love. So I can see what I can do with your wounds. I know it will hurt, but you are strong, angel. I’ll fix this. You will be okay. I promise.” 

Crowley helped Aziraphale to turn on his stomach, which obviously caused the angel more pain. “You’ll be okay.” Crowley repeated, whispering.

He looked at the wounds. And the shattered pieces of his heart are now pulverizing at the terrible sight. On Aziraphale’s upper back were two little, unequal feathered stumps. A barely visible bone poking out of each of them. And blood. So much blood. 

Crowley could still not believe it. The majestic, beautiful wings his angel wore so perfectly, the white feathered angelic features he was so proud of, were gone. 

Ripped off. Crowley realized with horror. This could’ve never been a cut. They’d ripped them off. To make it more painful. Aziraphale hadsuffered unbearable pain. He still is.

“Oh, angel..” Crowley whispered, barely audible. The demon felt the tears coming back. _Your beautiful wings... You wore your wings so elegantly. I will never be able to groom them again. They painfully took them away from you. Those satanblessed bastards. Die in hell. All of you._

Crowley pushed the thought aside and concentrated on what was important now. He first snapped the blood stains away, to have a better view at the wounds. The demon hissed in horror as he now actually saw how _many_ there were. _Azirapahle was fighting_. The spots were his wings used to be immediately started leaking new blood. 

Crowley didn’t know much about carnal healing. He only knew how to fix smaller damages on objects, but he couldn’t heal. 

He had once met the Archangel Raphael, watched him how he did it. But that was long time ago. He didn’t see him since then. Millennia actually.

Hopeless. He didn’t have any idea. But the angel’s constant silent moans and whines of pain were too horrible. He needed to do something. What would a _demon_ do...? 

Then Crowley noticed something. He didn’t know how to heal, but Aziraphale could. The Archangels are aware, that their principality can heal injuries. They must have done something to stop him from any healing miracle. 

Crowley growled a sigh to clear his mind, and rubbed his eyes, forgetting he still had angel blood on his hands. He ignored the slight holy stinging pain, and snapped some bandages into existence. He had to help his lover.

“Angel, I’m going to mend your win-“ Crowley stopped himself before pronouncing it. His wings are gone. _They did it. Those wankers actually did it._ He gulped. 

“I mean, your... wounds. Alright? I’ll mend them, okay? It may hurt a bit but... I’ll be as careful as I can, I promise.” he cooed, stroking Aziraphale’s not-hurt arm. The angel simply closed his eyes, and sobbed.

Crowley sighed. _Oh angel... What did they do to you..?_

To not hurt the angel, Crowley disinfected the wounds by miracle. He rolled the bandages open, and started putting them around the spot where Aziraphale’s left wing has been. 

Crowley gasped quietly. _The wing wich shielded me from the first rain to keep me dry. We had only just met, I am a demon, and Aziraphale still had..._ He teared up once more at the memory.

Crowley held back a sob, and continuied mending Aziraphale‘s wing-stumps. Aziraphale screamed in pain as Crowley touched the open spot.

“Fuck. Angel, I’m so sorry. _Shit_... I’m sorry.” - “It h-hurts... so bad... Crow... it hurts...I can’t...” the Angel sobbed painfully. There was nothing left of Crowley’s heart to break. “I know, angel. I know. You’re so strong, Aziraphale. You can do it, I’ll be done soon. You’re safe.”

The next minute, nothing was audible but the angel’s heartbreaking, heart _shattering_ , pained sounds. 

When Crowley was done bandaging his angel’s wing-stumps, he mend the cuts and laceration ’s all over Aziraphale’s body. 

Thirty minutes, wich felt like hours, passed, and Crowley was finally done. “It’s all done, angel! I’m done mending you. You made it.” Crowley whispered and kissed Aziraphale’s cheek. Carefully not to hurt him.

“I’ll make tea, okay? Do you want some?” the demon asked after a while of silence, and Aziraphale moved his head, wich could be seen as a nod. “I’ll be right back.” the serpent whispered, and headed to the kitchen. 

Crowley knew Aziraphale didn’t like miracled tea, but he should be allowed to at least miracle the water boiling faster. _I won’t ever leave Azirapahale alone again. Not even with being for too long in the kitchen._ Crowley put the tea leaves into the boiling water, and cooled it up a bit to make it drinkable. Then he finally walked back to his hurt angel. 

“Can you sit up Angel? Can you?” Crowley asked, and placed the tea on the table. “Uhm... I’ll maybe need... some help...” Aziraphale whispered exhausted, barely audible. Crowley put his arms under his angel’s arms, slowly helping him sitting up. 

As Aziraphale tried to lean on the backrest, he yelled in pain. He forgot his wingstumps, still too painful to let them disappear like it’s usually done with angel and demon wings.

“Hey, hey angel, don’t.” Crowley sat next to the angel and grapped the tea.

“Lean on me. With your side. There you go, angel.” Crowley whispered and handed the tea over to Aziraphale. 

The angel took the mug, or at least he tried to. His hands were still too weak and shaky, and Crowley ended up holding the mug for the angel and making him drink. 

After Aziraphale drank all the tea, he was clearly more relaxed. But still shaking and trembling like a leaf on a windy day. 

Crowley put the mug away and hugged the angel softly. “I’m with you, angel. You’re safe with me. They will not come close to you again. They won’t hurt you again as long as I’m here. I won’t let them. I’ve got you.” he kissed the principality’s pale hair. Azirapahle didn’t respond, but to Crowley’s relief, hugged him back. Weakly, but he did it.

They were silent for a while. Crowley soothingly stroking Azirapahle’s lower back, kissing his hair from time to time.

“They wanted me to fall.” Azirapahle whispered. 

Crowley turned his head down to look at him. The angel wasn’t regarding him in the eye. “What?” Crowley answered, confused.

The angel let out a shaky breath. “They were... angry. They want me to fall, but were even more angry that I didn’t.” Azirapahle stopped for a few seconds.

“So they wanted to... simulate... a fall. They wanted me to experience the same pain as...” he looked at Crowley. “Fallen angels.” the principality added, carefully.

Crowley widened his eyes and mouth, like a kid finding out that Santa doesn’t exist, as he realized what that meant. “No...” Crowley shakes his head. “No. Angel... they can’t actually.... no. This can’t be true.” 

“It is.” the angel whispered. Azirapahle was clinging to him for dear life. Before Crowley could say something, Azirapahle came to word. “Did you have to suffer like this, Crowley?” he whispered. “Was your... Fall... _this_ painful? Do you still have pain?”

“Angel...” Crowley sighed, and caressed the angels cheek. “You can’t compare that. That’s not the same...” he could read the angels face expression, he wanted an answer, so he gave one to him. “I _do_ still have a little pain. Sometimes. On the spots where my old angel wings were, where my demon wings are _now_. But Azirapahle, that was an _actual_ Fall. A punishment by god herself. I did something wrong, I’ve been warned many times but... well. I didn’t listen, and that’s what was my consequence. There had been more painful falls, and less painful ones. Mine was hard but, it was makable.” he said softly. “But you didn’t fall. They only...” he stopped, noticing that ‚only‘ wasn’t the right word at all. “They punished you regardless of god, and when I’m looking at this... I’m sure it’s just as painful as most falls are.” Crowley said carefully. Azirapahle understood, and nodded.

Another while of silence passed. “How much does it hurt at the moment?” Crowley whispered, holding his angel. “It’s... a lot.” Azirapahle’s voice was still shaky and weak. “A real lot.” 

Crowley nodded. “Oh, angel...” he sighed, barely audible. “I will take care of you. I promise, you’ll be okay.”

** *** **

A month passed since the incident, and luckily, Azirapahle’s wounds were healing rather good. 

But the angel was still in pain. Crowley was incredibly worried all along, that Azirapahle’s wounds may be infected. 

But it turned out that Uriel and Sandalphon had laid a spell on him. They wanted Azirapahle’s “Fall” to actually remain like a real one, so his upper back was constantly stinging and aching like a demon’s. If not, even stronger. 

Crowley had already miracled away the angel’s ripped off wings. It was awful. Seeing them, miracling them away like some dead trash. But he kept one of the white, fluffy feathers. As a souvenir. After all, those are Azirapahle’s wings we are talking about.

However, Aziraphale was trying to not show how much pain he suffered. To not ‘burden’ Crowley. That broke the demons heart once more. 

Especially the first days right after the attack, Azirapahle’s pain was getting unbearable during the day. So terribly much that he couldn’t even stand up or lie down. It was terrible, for both of them. The angel had tried to hide his pain, to assure Crowley that he was okay. But Crowley couldn’t have that. 

When he convinced Azirapahle to stop pretending, the angel spent his day crying in Crowley’s arms. In pain, in humiliation and grief. Crowley cried too. At first, that was how they spent the time after Archangels’ attack.

But, time was passing, and Crowley was taking care of his angel. He let him lean on him, prepared baths for him, boiled tea, made breakfast and baked cake (not daring to leave the Bookshop to buy them) and was even reading to him. His favourite books,but only comedies and funny one’s of course, adjusting his voice at the different characters. To make Azirapahle laugh. 

And, even though said angel had some worse pain periods from time to time, he was getting better. At least emotionally. Crowley took as good care of him as he could. Azirapahle was happy. Still in pain, put happy. Crowley had heard so many “Thank you”’s and “I love you”’s from Azirapahle in the past month. “I’m happy to help you, angel.” and “I love you too, angel. So much.” He had answered, and wasn’t lying. 

** *** **

Three months passed, and Azirapahle was able to walk painlessly already. He and Crowley even went outside a few times. Of course, nearly every human in every bakery andevery fancy store knew Azirapahle, and immediately saw the cuts in his face and the healing wounds. “An accident” is all the two of them answered when the humans asked questions. They soon returned home after their walks, at Crowley’s wish.   


Azirapahle started being pained again, so they didn’t leave the bookshop a few days, until they went out of cake...

“Crowley dear?” Azirapahle called quietly. “Yeah, angel?” his lover, who was sprawled on the couch, responded. “I’m going to the bakery. I heard they sell a new type of cake now!” - “Oh, wait angel, I’m coming with you.” Crowley answered and jumped up, walking over to the principality. 

Azirapahle sighed. “Crowley, it’s five minutes away. I can go alone, dearest.” he said carefully. “ **No**!” Crowley answered, a little too loud. “ _They_ could see that you’re alone. Who knows what they will do? What if they come for you again? Kill you even! I can’t leave you alone, angel.”Crowley tried to explain it without his voice starting to shake, but failed. 

“My love...” Azirapahle cupped the demons cheeks, looking him in the eyes. “They won’t come for me. If they wanted to kill me, they would’ve done so already. They already punished me, Crowley. _That’s_ what they wanted to do. And they’ve done it. They won’t come back.” the angel whispered.

“I know... But I’m... I’m not ready yet, angel. Im not ready to leave you alone yet. Please. You know how difficult it already was for me, leaving you alone after the fire. Can you imagine how difficult it is _now_? I’m simply scared for you angel. I _love_ you.” Crowley said, voice shaky. “I want to protect you. I don’t want to fail again.”

Azirapahle’s understanding and gratefulness flashed so much intensity that Crowley could almost _see_ it. Just like his love, and Crowley’s love. “You didn’t fail, my dearest. But I understand.... Come with me, I’m sure even you will like the new cake!” the angel smiled. “Thank you, angel.” Crowley smiled too, and together, they left the shop, heading towards the bakery.

Crowley knew, the pain Azirapahle was suffering would always be there. It won’t go away, as long as the infinite spell lasts. 

But he would take care of Azirapahle. He would find a way to fix this, to break the spell. He will cure his angel, and if it’s the last thing he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it...  
> Comments/Kudos appreciated 💕✨


End file.
